SPEAKING POETRY WITH MAURICE CHIKE UGWONOH- PART 3

The Blame Theory.

It’s been a year

Since I last penned these hallowed pages.

It’s been a year

Since I’ve been penned in hollow cages.

 

Blame it on writer’s block.

Truth is, my mind was never built with writer’s block

Nor have I lived on a writer’s block.

Still, I’m sentenced to this writer’s block.

By my Muse…the rabbi of my writer’s block

 

Blame it on lack of time

Or rather, my waste of time

If Time is truly money, I spent too much every time…

Befriending Inertia as I whiled away inert Time

I know, Time is not my friend… at least not in this life time.

Sadly, I murdered moments by slowly killing Time

 

Blame it on procrastination

And my mind-state is its crappy constitution

Yesterday is late.

Today is too early.

Tomorrow is still-born

What the heck is going on?!

What does it take to plant an idea and harvest its fruition?

What does it take to be a citizen of imagination…

Without committing the crime of delusion?

 

Blame it on friends

Wait…before you throw a middle finger, just read this to the end

You are more than a fan

You are not a Stan

You are the reason I can…

 

My inspiration, my write hand

But when I fell off the bend

There was no one to lend a hand

No calls, no hellos, no messages…”you no send”

But it takes two…so I understand

That’s the reason I’m putting this on the stand

I’m sorry for our broken bridge, so I write to make amends

 

 

 

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